I would like to tell you that I chose this poem because my garden is thick with tomatoes. But it turns out that my attempt to carry my spring tomato plants through the summer into the fall, where they might produce again, has mostly resulted in shriveled stalks and defeat.
I chose this poem because it is a love poem, and we just celebrated our anniversary. And because I appreciate anything that reminds us to savor versus hurry, to fill our hands versus tackle our lists. And because I always need reminding.
“Phone calls go unanswered. Forgive us.
Our mouths are full of tomatoes.”
